Noticing
by alijoz97
Summary: Lily Evans literally runs into James Potter. Can they manage a civil conversation, or does all hell break loose, filled with hidden feelings that run deeper than the secret passages at Hogwarts?


Her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, the bag she had slung over her shoulder bumping rhythmically into her leg. She was already late, she knew-so late that it wasn't even worth it to run and ruin her hair-to get all sweaty before rushing into class and collapsing into a chair (as discreetly as she could) next to James Potter. James sodding Potter. The reason she was now acting like a total girl by waking up at 6:30 to tame her obnoxious hair and carefully apply the lipstick that made her-somehow-much more appealing to the boy that had singlehandedly driven her crazy for the past five and a half years of her life.

James Potter, the boy that held her heart in the palm of his hand whether he knew it or not.

So, Lily walked, her fingers fiddling with her hair as she imagined sitting next to him, sliding into her desk as she looked at him with her peripheral vision, his shoulders slumped over his notes as his quill tapped out a rhythm barely audible to her own ears, certain that what he was hearing sounded a lot more like music than what she heard. Maybe he'd look at her and toss her a grin, or-better yet-whisper, "Evans," and drop her a wink that'd have her on edge for weeks.

Merlin was she pathetic.

Imagining false scenarios about him were all she had going for her now. They were much more fascinating than the current present: him nodding to her and diligently working on his school work. It was odd, but not odder than her spending every waking moment thinking about his jawline or his tendency to write with his right hand and catch the Snitch during Quidditch with his left.

She rounded the corner, thinking about just how perfect a child of their's would look when she smacked into something hard. Skidding backwards, she fell onto the ground, bag splitting into two. Her ink bottle spilled precariously over her books. Damn, Madam Pince would have her head.

"No!" she gasped as she lunged towards the bottles, reaching to right them. A pair of hands beat her to the sticky glass containers, adjusting the bottles so the thick black liquid would stop dripping down the pages of her Transfiguration book, staining the pages black.

She sat back on her heels, blowing out a breath of air, looking straight into the face of James Potter.

"Hi," he said, rocking back on his own heels. His fingers were covered in ink, revealing the squiggles and lines of his fingerprints-a roadmap to him and only him, a roadmap that Lily wanted to see for herself. She blushed at the thought and tried to concentrate on something-anything-else. His robes, she noticed, were soaked with the stuff. He looked at her warily, as if waiting for the inevitable; she'd scream at him for being an imbecile, and he'd snap at her for being too proud to admit that she liked it. But it didn't come, and eventually his shoulders relaxed.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her eyebrows pulling down curiously. James opened his mouth to respond, but Lily beat him to it, adding, "Besides rounding corners and knocking into innocent young women to the ground and destroying their materials for class, at least." Her voice didn't waver, not giving her thoughts of dragging him to the nearest broom cupboard away. And for that, she thanked Godric above.

James grinned, rolling his eyes at her comment. He seemed happy to hear Lily talk to him in a manner that didn't result in hoarse voices and bloodshot eyes. "If you're trying to make me feel bad about myself, Evans, you just missed your window of opportunity during breakfast. I was pleasantly enjoying my marmalade and toast while Remus and Sirius cleverly discussed my inability to find a girl to take to Hogsmede. I was just returning from the loo, where I had to take a moment to compose my heart wrenching feelings before heading to class."

"Pity," she said, ignoring the part of her that thrummed like an electric wire when he mentioned the fact that he didn't have a date to Hogsmede. "I would've loved to contribute."

"And I'm sure they would've loved to have you, Evans, except you barely spend any time with us at breakfast anymore." He looked down at his inked hands, reaching for his wand and making the liquid vanish from the books. Running his hand through his hair, he added distractedly, "You've been acting weird lately."

His forehead, now spotted with ink, crinkled. Lily pursed her lips, somehow wanting to convey that her absence at breakfast equated to more time in her dorm, applying mascara that James didn't notice and slathering on lipstick that James didn't notice and picking out outfits that James didn't notice.

James, she realized, was good at a lot of things. Noticing the time and effort she took each morning to look good for him wasn't one of them.

She shrugged, playing it cool. "I don't know, I just have a lot of homework, I guess." She reached for her own wand and began to repair her ripped bag. Mainly it was something for her to do, somewhere for her to look other than those impeccable hazel eyes.

"Come off it," James snorted. "Nobody has that much homework."

She shrugged again. She couldn't look at him, for fear she'd explode into girlish feelings and obvious hints. "Slughorn is pushing me really hard this year. I've been spending time in the dungeons a lot." She didn't feel bad saying that, since it technically wasn't a lie. Her days were split between Dungeon Time and Dorm Time.

His hands froze over her books. "With Sn-Severus?"

She looked up from underneath her eyelashes, wondering why he cared. She wanted him to care. "Actually, no. By myself, mostly. I'm trying to apply to different groups within the Ministry. Severus isn't, er, interested in pursuing that sort of field after Hogwarts. Er, so I've heard, at least."

He relaxed, organizing her books into a stack. "Oh."

Neither of them mentioned that the field Severus would be heading into would be that of killing Muggleborns for Voldemort.

She took the books from him and shoved them in her bag, not wanting to discuss any of it further, absently brushing her hair away from her face. She glanced at James, noting the black smudges on his face.

"You have, er..." She gestured towards his face. As if trying to lighten the mood, he stuck his tongue out at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Groaning at his childlike manor while questioning her sanity, she clenched her jaw and reached over to cup his face with her hands. Taking her finger, she rubbed at the ink, smoothing out the lines and crinkles in his face until the smudges were no longer painting his face.

He screwed up his face; Lily laughed.

"You're good," she said, pulling away. Away from his mint-scented self and soft hair and crooked smile. Away from the feelings and possible devastation and overall need to grab him by his collar and drag his lips to hers.

He didn't let her get too far, though, his hand reaching out to capture her wrist and ravel her back closer to him. Their chests were almost touching. His breath fanned her face.

"Evans," he said, giving her an accusatory tone. "You've been wearing makeup. Why?"

"I'm trying to impress Dumbledore," she said quickly.

"Not somebody else?"

He knew, he knew, he knew. He knew.

"Nobody that knows it," she quipped

"Maybe he does," James grinned, looking down at her with his crazy eyes and stupid height and fluffy hair and smooth skin. He was insufferable. He was perfect.

He was hers.

"James," she said softly, his closeness giving her a dizzying amount of confidence. He bent his head closer to hers, careful to catch every word she said.

"Mm?"

She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I think I can help you out with your, ah, problem. The one Remus and Sirius were talking to you about?"

"I'm liking the sound of this, Evans..."

"Take me," she blurted, her heart threatening to pound out of her chest. "Take me to Hogsmede. I'm a girl; we're friends. Nobody will make fun of you. We don't even have to do anything exciting. It doesn't even have to mean anything. Like, a trip to the Three Broomsticks would be sufficient enough. I'm not really a fan of Pudd-"

But she didn't quite get to finish, her sentence cut off by the quick pressure of James's lips crashing down onto hers, their foreheads knocking in a way that was anything but painful. As quickly as it had come, however, he was gone, along with his warmth, leaving her standing slightly shivering in the corridor.

He wasn't completely gone, though. He was in front of her, not touching, his lips red from the contact and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose. There was a brilliant smile threatening to split his face in two. Lily's stomach swirled.

James looked at Lily, his lips twitching into an even wider smile. "So, what, like a date?"

She punched his shoulder, ignoring the part of her that focused only on the muscles hidden beneath his robes, and told him that she'd meet him in front of the Great Hall at noon on Saturday.

Her smile was even wider than his.


End file.
